Summoning Light

over occupied world bewildering hodge-podge of people pushing stress where it ought not to be in the slim rays of late day in the splattered mess of guttered streets a homeless man asks for a light for a half burnt cigarette then money for food nerve knotted living squeezed between soiled fingers his fingers most shove by him like gnats late for breeding people in pinup poses keep silent midst foul displacement shun soiled annoyance like shoddy prospects does a story untold, matter? does all humanity deserve its space? was there a time when lushness oozed like honey from a jar? can we re-configure rag-tag pieces? homeless man seeks a light unflagging energy to be seen girdled by grit a real mission not to wipe away self like crumbs from a plate sometimes we live in a motionless cloud unseeing of bandaged squalor as street-people pleas whittle comfort our aligned security by uttering "No" such feel good factors defending a self contained sphere as light loses traction Poem composed April 12, 2023